


A Bird in the Hand

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Birds, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Crime Fighting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, I promise there is more of Dick than the other guy, Magic, Magical Artifacts, a hodgepodge of wild ideas, bumbling magicians, but it's mostly just crack, outside pov, pov switching, so we swap from Dick's POV to the OCs, someone gets turned into a bird, there is the tiiiiiinnnyist bit of hurt if you look hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-13 20:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18948184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: “My son was turned into a bird by a mathlete.” Bruce mumbled, face still pressed to his palms, “There are a number of things wrong with this situation.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Couple of notes about this fic:  
> It is complete  
> It contains altering POV's between Dick and an OC called Lucas  
> It was supposed to be crack, then turned into what if this was also outside POV?  
> I had a bird for 9 years and experience shaped this
> 
> None of this would have been possible without my good friend Laquilasse

The bell chimed as Lucas stepped into the bar, jingling in an old timey way that he didn’t think still existed. Then again, this was Gotham, and a bar with a bell really wasn’t that surprising when compared to Gotham’s scale of weirdness.

Lucas had stopped being surprised by things after his first week in in the city. Well, he’d thought he had. He shifted the sling on his shoulder and wiggled his fingers against the cast covering his wrist and forearm. Some things still surprised him.

The bar was brimming with life, raucous laughter assaulted him from one side. The click snap of pool balls sliding across velvety green, worn by years of use, echoed from the other. All around him voices hummed in a chorus of chatter.

The easiest place to find a spot was at the bar itself, so feeling much like a cowboy in an old west film, Lucas slipped onto the first open stool he saw.

The barkeep slid over to him, usual words on the tip of his tongue as he laid down a square napkin, until he caught a good look at Lucas under the lights, “What can I--what happened to you?”

“Whisky, no ice.”

“Really, bud. You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”

Lucas gave him a look that said he didn’t want to talk about it and the man moved away, hopefully to pour his drink.

“So.” Barkeep said, setting down the glass, “Who roughed you up?”

The sigh was involuntary, “Nightwing.”

Barkeep whistled, “You must have really pissed him off.”

“You have no idea.”

The man leaned forward, elbows on the bar to look him over. Examining the swollen eye, split lip, the cast on his arm, and probably the smell of terror still radiating hours later from him.

“What’d you do?”

Lucas wrapped his hand around the glass and tapped on it with his fingers, one two three four, one two three four. It’s not like he was at a cop bar, or even a respectable one. He’d come here like he’d done every so often since he’d come to this city, for the same reason all the guys who came here did: to stay off the heroes’ radars.

Lucas lifted the glass and swirled the liquid inside, watching as the amber glittered under the dim lights, “I guess I should start at the beginning.”  
  


* * *

 

Lucas slipped the door to the museum open and stepped inside, delighted that both his muffling and lock picking spells had worked again. He really was getting pretty good at this.

He’d come in through a side entrance, and stepped right into Ancient Egypt. It was only by pure luck he didn’t walk right into the mummy display or he might have yelped and lost all semblance of concentration he had on the tracking spell he was muttering.

The Mermaid’s Tear had to be here. He’d had a feeling he wouldn’t find it in the first museum in Gotham he’d checked, but it had to be in one of them, and he was whittling down his list. He looked around at the barely lit exhibit and discounted any of the displays as carrying it. It was a Scandinavian relic, part of lore passed down through story and tale.

The spell, one for finding magical items, flickered in his chest as he finished it and he felt the now familiar whoosh of energy slipping from him to the area around him. A tiny gold trail glittered before him, running through the exhibit and into the museum proper.

He followed the trail considering the difficulty of his quest. Honestly Lucas had no idea how the thing had even ended up in Gotham, but traveled there it had, and he was on the hunt. Any aspiring evil (so he wasn’t quite evil per-say, but it looked good on a resume) magician needed an amplifier. The Mermaid’s tear was just that, suppose to enhance innate magic abilities and make spells easier to cast. Stronger too.

He’d need it if he was going to make any name for himself.

The glittering trail led him past dinosaurs, ancient Greek pottery, and baroque paintings. Twisting and winding until he got to a room with a large sign over the entrance reading “Jewelry and Fabrics”

Delighted, he almost ran inside, shaking up the gold in his eyesight. The spell required concentration, not excitement, and it took him a few seconds to still his breathing before he could get the trail to even out again.

In those few seconds something rattled above his head, and a grate flew from the ceiling. It sent actual fear running through his chest. He’d figured all his searching would get him noticed by the bats. He’d just hoped he’d found the Tear before that.

He ran, following the shaky trail over to a display case all but glittering with the gold in his vision.

Lucas had heard about the bats of course. Hearing about them was like hearing about the Easter Bunny or Superman. Gotham was full of bats, and if you wanted to do anything against the law, chances were you’d run into them sooner rather than later.

He smashed the glass on the display case and reached inside just as a green boot kicked out a grate in the wall across from him.

 

* * *

 

Dick Grayson was pretty sure he’d never get used to the large chair at the Batcomputer. He would never admit it to Bruce or anyone else but he’d actually switched the thing when he’d been Batman.

The chair was much like a prized seat in the living room, something you fought and fought over until you actually had it. Then it simply felt like something too big. Sitting in it was a lonely endeavor, lacking the victory ten year old him had once relished when he could usurp his guardian from his place.

He shifted in the chair and clicked through screens and controls to call up Batman, his stomach churning against the report he was about to make.

Batman’s face flickered to life on the screen of the Batcomputer, larger and more imposing than it was in real life. He looked preoccupied, which wasn’t a surprise. He was in space after all, dealing with some sort of interplanetary mess, the details of which he’d refused to actually tell Dick before he’d left ‘trusting Dick with the city and Robin’.

Dick gulped. Internally of course, it didn’t do to let Batman see you sweat.

“Heya, B. How’s the mission treating you?”

He could have sworn Bruce shot a glare at him. The cowl was good at hiding things like that, it was imposing enough to _be_ a glare, but hid the man’s actual stare.

“Is it really that bad working with Hal?” Dick poked, hoping to avoid updates for as long as possible, and maybe even skip them altogether if he could bait Bruce into a rant about his travelling partner.

Bruce huffed, but didn’t grace Dick’s question with an answer, “What’s been going on in Gotham?”

“Oh you know.” Dick shrugged, “The same old crazy.”

At this he could see his father lean forward, interest taken in the odd answer, “And Damian?”

Bruce must have caught Dick’s hesitancy. He all but grumbled, “Start at the beginning.”

Dick couldn’t help but grin at Bruce’s assumption that Damian was the cause of the same old crazy. As far as assumptions went, he was pretty close.

“It’s faster to start at patrol the other night.” Dick said, shifting to cross his legs in the chair, “I don’t want to bore you with more details than are important.”

 

* * *

 

Dick resisted the urge to look up at the museum ceiling as he tiptoed his way through it. There was no real reason to look up. He couldn’t see through it into the vents Damian was sneaking through. Even if he could, the kid was on the opposite end of the building.

Splitting up wasn’t Dick’s favorite thing to do on patrol. It helped, and it got things done, but it didn’t stop the nagging worry that Damian was going to get himself hurt or into serious trouble.

This wasn’t a new feeling. Even while they’d been Batman and Robin together Dick preferred Damian by his side, where he could keep an eye on the kid and minimize damage. Then, he’d been more worried about the damage Damian could do, but that worry had gradually changed focus. No matter how trained his little brother was, bad things could still happen.

He crept through an art exhibit, following his mask’s heat sensor to the dimly glowing dot moving at a snail's pace before him. Eventually the dot would stop, and they’d all converge on a spot. It did little good to rush ahead and spook the guy.

It had taken almost a week, and a pinch of luck, for Dick and Damian to track down the guy they were currently following. It bugged Dick that they still didn’t have a _name_ let alone a reason he was breaking into every museum in Gotham and stealing nothing. It was plain stupid to cause a ruckus like that and not take anything.

Unless he was looking for something specific. In which case he was more dangerous than a simple idiot or burglar in training.

Dick hurried his steps and clicked his comm on, “Robin, report.”

“Tt.”

He rolled his eyes at Damian’s answer and asked, “Where are you?”

“On route. If this map is correct I am approaching jewelry.”

“Be careful.”

“I am always careful, Nightwing.”

Dick bit back a retort at that obvious lie. Damian was as careful a Robin as Dick was. Just another reason he wished his brother was by his side, not crawling through some vents.

“Eyes on the target, I’m heading in.”

“Robin do not--” Dick’s argument was cut off as the sound of metal clanged and the live buzz from connected communication clicked off.

He swore and started running. In a museum as full and maze-like as this one was, even running took him longer than he’d like to reach the jewelry section, so when he burst past a collection of old tapestries and into a more open room he was met with...nothing.

Not nothing. No one.

The room was full of shattered glass and scattered relics. Jewelry, tapestries, and even a few mannequins littered the space. Displays were toppled, creating barriers where there shouldn’t be any. All the signs of a fight were present, with none of the people.

Glass crashed to Dick’s left and he spun in time to see a man in robes climb out, the cracked glass tearing his clothes with an audible ripping sound. Dick ran towards the rapidly disappearing figure.

He stopped at the window, looking out to find the robed man gone. No trace of him was left on the street outside.

A little bit of purple robe was stuck to the broken glass, fluttering as the breeze outside caught it and tried to tug it away. Dick gently removed it, examining it for possible bloodstains, and bagged it before tucking it away.

He then turned to examine the scene. There was still no sign of Robin. Worry pooled in Dick’s stomach, where had his partner gone? Had he gotten the location wrong, and ended up somewhere else in the building?

Dick picked his way through debris, searching for clues or signs that Damian had been there. The man couldn’t possibly have taken him, Dick would have seen that. Right?

He stopped as something odd caught his eye, organic in the mess of glass and glittering jewels. He crouched to find a bird laying on the floor, one wing askew, with the other folded close.

“What on Earth?” Dick said, brushing his hand along the creature, it was young, with fluffy tan and brown feathers still taking up most of its features. Red was just starting to peek out at the top of its breast, a robin then.

It was alive, Dick could tell as much by how it’s chest rose and fell in tiny rapid bursts, but it shouldn’t be on the ground, and it really shouldn’t be inside, not this far from the window. Dick would have noticed it flying in, and before that the window had been whole and unopened.

He lifted the robin gently, cupping it’s tiny form in his palm to raise towards his face for a closer examination. His heart was pounding.

The man had disappeared without a trace. Damian had been in the room and now was gone. There was a robin.

Was it so wild to assume?

There were green marks around the robin’s eyes, the tiniest of feathers flecking the area in an outline not unlike a mask. Not unlike Damian’s mask. In addition, he could now tell that there was yellow dotting the top of the bird’s wings. Neither were natural colors for Robins to have.

The earlier worry pooling in Dick’s stomach felt like a flood now. If this was Damian. If this robin was _his_ Robin, Dick wasn’t sure what to do. He had no idea how to tell if he was hurt or not. The irony of the situation was not lost on him, if he and Damian’s positions were switched he was sure his kid brother would know exactly what to do. He was always bringing birds home after all.

He brushed two fingers along the bird’s, along _Damian’s_ head, the caress as gentle as possible.

Dick felt sick. He had no idea if Damian would even wake up remembering him or not. No idea if something in that tiny frame was broken, or if he’d even open his eyes--He had to stop thinking like that. Damian was going to be fine. They were going to find the man, a magic user, and make him fix this.

If only Zatanna hadn’t left with Bruce they could reverse this tonight.

 

* * *

 

  
“Hold on.” Bruce interrupted, “Are you telling me that my youngest son is a _bird_?”

“Technically, he’s a Robin, not just any bird.” Dick grinned, “Let me continue?”

His father grunted but waved at him to go on.  
  


* * *

 

 

Dick cupped the robin-Damian-carefully his palms. He was so small he could easily fit in on hand, but Dick didn’t want to risk dropping him. The slight movement seemed to stir something in the tiny bird.

He shifted so his wings were fluttering against Dick’s raised fingers and his tiny feet scratched against the palms of Dick’s hands. It would have been ticklish if he wasn’t wearing gloves, as it was, Dick could feel the slightest bit of pressure.

His eyes flickered open, dark but shining with intelligence. Dick swallowed, chest catching. His brother was so *tiny*.

Damian scrambled to his feet, his wings flapping wildly as he tried to orient himself. Dick had to tilt his hands, and almost close them to keep Damian from falling out of them. The thought of Damian falling from even as small a distance as it was to the floor terrified Dick. He was too small, any distance might hurt him.

His brother made a sound somewhere between a screech and tweet, panicked and wild as he continued to flail against Dick’s hands.

“Hey, Kiddo, calm down. Please. It’s going to be okay.” Dick tried, keeping his voice soft.

Damian screeched again at him, and bit at his thumb. Glove or not it hurt, and Dick had to resist the urge to fling him.

“Robin stop.” he said, the command as strong as it had been when he’d been Batman.

The bird in his hands froze. If anything was an indication that this really was Damian, that was it. No actual bird would react that way to him saying Robin.

“Listen, I know you’re scared right now, and things are very very weird, but you need to chill so we can figure them out okay?” Dick said, then added, “Nod if you understand, I really need to know you understand me.”

Damian nodded. He seemed calmer, but his breathing was still too fast, tiny rapid breaths that seemed to shake his whole body.

“I’m going to set you on the ground so you can orient yourself, but you need to know that you’re tiny and a bird. And _tiny_.”

Damian chittered at him, the sound an awful lot like when he made a dismissive clicking sound. Dick translated it as “Don’t be an idiot, Grayson, of course I am a bird.” because it seemed the most Damian of answers.

He leaned over and let Damian hop off his hands. His brother took a few wobbly steps, and fluttered his wings. He kept turning his head, apparently confused by the differences there. When he’d settled on things, he turned back around and hopped, wings fluttering as he took flight.

He looked drunk, dipping and swerving as he worked his way up the relatively short distance to Dick’s shoulder. His landing could not be described as graceful, it was more of a crash, with his little body running into Dick’s shoulder and neck, and his feet scrambling for purchase.

Dick laughed at the way his claws tickled the skin of his neck, and Damian nipped at him in retaliation.

“I’m just ticklish, Dames.” Dick said, holding back any laughter, “I promise I’m not laughing at you. I doubt I could have done better on my first attempt at flying.”

Damian twittered at him, the tone sharp and dismissive as if to say, “I doubt that, you were born to fly.”

Or maybe Dick was just projecting.

He stood slowly, trying not to shake Damian off his shoulder. He felt like one wrong move might send the his far too small brother toppling from his shoulder. Which was silly, because once Damian had settled there, he seemed rooted to Dick’s uniform.

“Let’s get you home so we can start figuring out what to do next.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lucas stood frozen, staring at Nightwing as he gazed out at what should be an empty street. He held his breath, counting to keep calm. _One two three four. One two three four. One two three_ , at last, Nightwing pulled back and turned his attention to the mess inside.

Invisibility spell or not, that had been a close call. If he hadn’t taken care of Robin as fast as he had, well... Lucas had a feeling he’d be spending the next few nights in lockup at least.

He looked down at the glittering pendant in his hand. He could feel the power radiating from it, and he thought he could sense it poking at him. Searching for a way in. That was silly, of course. It amplified powers, it didn’t take over. No matter what the stories said.

Still, it had worked it’s magic and honed his powers. Even if they’d been sloppy and Lucas hadn’t been sure what he’d really wanted.

The kid had been a brat. Far too cocky and uncaring. It had taken moments for Lucas to decide on the spell’s rules, though he hadn’t picked the form. Still, Robin as a robin was delightful.

* * *

“Wait just one second.” A woman, redheaded and wispy, said, “None of this explains how you let Nightwing put you through the ringer.”

The crowd around Lucas had grown quite a bit since he’d started his story, with men and women setting down games and pulling chairs closer to the bar. Someone had even turned the music down so his voice could carry.

“Yeah,” the bartender added, “As funny as it is, turning his bird into a bird isn’t grounds for a broken arm.”

“More like a laughing fest. Even Nightwing’d get a kick out of that.” the woman chuckled.

“I’m getting to that.” Lucas said, “Changing Robin was just the start.”

“What did you do then? Eat him?”

“Wing’d never let that happen.” another man, off to Lucas’s side said, “Let the guy finish, my money’s on him takin’ the brat or something.”

Lucas cleared his throat, gaining the crowd’s attention back, “I hadn’t planned on ever seeing either of them again. Unfortunately I found a problem with my newfound magic that made a second meeting inevitable.”

* * *

He hurried past the window and down the street to find his car, right where he’d left it. It had been foolishly simple to break into each museum. Though, tonight’s close call was a warning to be more careful in the future.

Not that he’d need to break in anywhere in the future. The Mermaid’s Tear gave him the power to do anything he’d like.

In his palm, the pendant hummed, in agreement.

Lucas heard it, not words or a definite answer, but he heard it all the same. A warm, tempting, feeling silky and deceptive.

He shoved the pendant into his pocket and shook his hand. It tingled where the thing had rested. Even with it in his pocket, Lucas could feel it. He knew it was waiting, biding it’s time before he used it again.

There was no stopping the shudder that raced down his spine. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe the stories were true.

Lucas pushed those thoughts aside as he got into his car and started it. He headed at a leisurely pace for his apartment. Nightwing would be so taken up with his feathered companion there was little worry of being followed or tracked immediately.

That night, Lucas dreamed of the pendant. Dreamed he was wielding it as a supreme magician, more powerful than the heroes that graced the news or than the villains that stalked Gotham’s streets.

It spoke to him. Told him of everything he could do with it. Everything he could create and manifest.

He woke in a cold sweat, the pendant clasped in his hand. He dropped it onto the bed, scrambling away from it. His palm hurt. When he inspected it he found a red indent from squeezing the Tear, puckered slightly as if it had burned him.

The red letters of his clock read a little after three a.m. Lucas sucked in a shuddering breath. He was wide awake. So much so he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep.

That was fine, he had research to do.

He pulled slippers onto his feet and padded out of his room and to the kitchen of his apartment, flicking on a low light to start a pot of coffee. The toasted warm smell coming off the coffee pot was almost enough to scare away thoughts of overpowering magic. Nothing, not even comforting scents, could hide the way Lucas’s palm tingled.

He rubbed it against his thigh and moved to snatch his laptop. It rested on a worn cushion of his couch. For a dumpster dive find, the couch was in surprisingly good shape. The cushions had needed liberal fluffing, and the fabric was worn down to bare in some places, but it seemed more like something that had been tossed in favor of a new couch rather than because it was broken.

The laptop found its way to his kitchen bar, a cup of black coffee next to it.

Lucas opened it up and clicked to his folder of research on the Mermaid’s Tear. He navigated to the document titled: Rumors and Theories. Lucas scanned it, reading over the information he’d found fascinating and the stuff he’d ignored.

He skimmed past the information on power enhancement, the hints of spells constant success, and the descriptions of previous feats achieved. He’d read all this before, it’s what had caused him to seek out the stone.

His eyes fell on the word parasite. Invasive. Mind control. Overwhelming power.

Lucas clicked on links that took him to old forums and articles on the Tear, confirming the information he’d typed out for himself. The tear was powerful yes, but it was dangerous without a focusing medium.

Currently, the pendant was hung on a simple chain, thin and delicate, it almost seemed to small for the jewel. An opal carved into the shape of a tear, it looked magical no matter what it’s properties were.

He took a sip of his coffee, cooled from his dive into research. Older images showed the tear set into a crashing wave carved out of something silvery and hung on a more substantial chain, this one of interlocking pieces. It is the focusing medium, created to harness and hone the tear’s powers without risking the user.

Lucas had to have it.

The rest of the pot of coffee went to his search for the other half of the original pendant. He hoped it was somewhere close. He didn’t want to risk using the tear unprotected again. Added to that, he’d like to have his power under control by the time Nightwing and Robin collected themselves again.

Lucas wasn’t worried about Nightwing. From what he’d heard, the man was best described as friendly. He was quippy, and liked to show off. A threat yes, but nothing Lucas couldn’t handle on a good day.

Robin had been neutralized. He doubted anyone would figure out how to break the spell any time soon. If they did, well Lucas knew Nightwing at the very least would not allow the child to attempt to break the spell, it was too dangerous and even he knew how the man doted on Batman’s sidekick.

He left his apartment, laptop tucked under his arm. He needed to get out, get away from the feeling of the Tear still buried in his bed. There was a diner that didn’t care how long he sat using their wifi within walking distance that would be perfect for him.

Waling outside reminded him of just how prominent the presence of Batman and his birds was everywhere in the city.

Bat symbols were scribbled on walls. Shop windows displayed bags and jackets covered in cowls. The R Lucas had seen on Robin’s chest decorated coffee mugs and shined on children’s shirts.

He ducked his head for most of the walk, as if that would keep even the symbols from noticing him. As if it might shield him from further retribution later on by their owners. 

He stepped inside the diner, and took in the scent of warm bread and fresh coffee. He slid into his favorite seat, the red and white of the couch squeaking as he settled in. It was a good seat because it was tucked into a corner, secluded, but aimed at the door where he could keep an eye on things, and a window he could get lost looking out of.

Lucas dug back into his research even before ordering. He’d been in Gotham only a few months, but already he had a regular order here. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Good if he could find the other half of the tear. Bad if it meant he needed to up and move again.

No matter what, his big worry was the Batman Lucas was truly worried about. There were no stories of gentleness from him. No tales of laughter nor jokes. Until Lucas had run into his birds he’d assumed Batman was a myth. A scary story meant to dissuade troublemakers. A terror in the dark.

He had not seen the Batman, but where there were birds, a bat was sure to follow. Especially when Lucas had changed his partner into the literal version of his name.

* * *

“When are you gonna get to the good stuff. You said it was Nightwing that put you through a meat grinder, did the Bats show up too?” The man next to Lucas asked.

Lucas eyed him, “It’s all in the build up, my friend.”

He took a swig from his cup, his throat parched after the story, and coughed as the liquid felt like it set fire to his throat. He spluttered, doing his best not to spit the liquid out.

When he could breathe again, he wheezed, “That is, oh my gosh that _burns_. Who drinks something like that?”

No one around him appreciated or even seemed to care about his fit.

He cleared his throat, “Would you be nearly as interested without the magic mind bending jewel and the poor little magician fearing for his life against the bat?”

The man huffed, “Get on with it then.”

He took that as an agreement.

* * *

Lucas sat at that diner for the better part of the day, enjoying breakfast and then a late lunch first trying to figure out what the other half was called, then locating it. This was, surprisingly, easier to find than the Tear had been.

With it he’d had rumors and word of mouth. It hadn’t been listed in the museum’s catalog, so Lucas had searched them one by one hoping to get lucky. He was happy the other half seemed less guarded.

His back ached and his head hurt from staring at a screen too long, but when he scribbled his name on the check and folded down the top of his laptop he was satisfied.

The tear, of course, was still waiting for him at his apartment. Almost forgotten even as he’d researched it.

Catching sight of it sparkle when he turned on his light returned to mind all his imaginings about it. The memories of the power he could have, and the longing to lift and use it. Lucas tossed a pillow over it and did his best to ignore the thoughts shoved to the back of his mind. He needed to plan his heist.

* * *

It did not take long to realize that Damian was impatient and grumpy even as a bird. Maybe more so. Dick could understand his eagerness to figure things out, and to fix himself. He’d want to change back as soon as possible too. He wanted Damian changed back soon.

Every time he looked at Damian his heart did funny things. It constricted with a fleeting terror that he was too small, too fragile, that he’d break any second. Then it surged because his brother was far too cute. He had an angry face, and a puffy fluffy little body showing his age even as a bird in it’s tawny feathers only starting to color red on his breast.

Right now, Damian was chirping angrily at him, little chips and squawks of displeasure at the length of time Dick had been gone. He hopped (still not quite ready to attempt flight again) on the Batcomputer’s desk and continued to chide him in bird-speak.

Dick knew what he was upset about. He’d promised not to be gone too long, then the moment hot water had hit Dick’s tight shoulders, and stopped stinging the bites on his hand, he’d relaxed into it and lost track of time.

It was a simple enough thing to happen, one Damian had allowed himself to do more and more since he’d arrived. But there hopped his kiddo, angry and grumpy that Dick had left him.

If Alfred’s amused glance at Dick upon entering was any indication, Damian hadn’t spent a moment alone. Dick even thought he spied a feather stuck to Alfred’s sleeve. He stepped over and plucked a reddish feather from his arm, grinning at the man.

“Damian hang out with you while I was cleaning up?”

“He refused to leave my shoulder until the sounds of your arrival were imminent. The lad has quite good hearing, and caught on before I did.” Alfred gave him a small smile at that.

Dick waved at his brother, still squawking at them, “Come on, Dames, don’t be upset. You didn’t want to spend all night snuggled close to a stinky man did you?”

He walked over and scooped up the ball of fluff that was Damian. His feathers were baby soft under his now bare fingers, and Dick wanted to sit running his hands through them for hours. Damian head butted his thumbs and glared up at him.

“That magician made a serious mistake turning you into a bird, you know.” Dick said, then grinned at Damian, “You’re too cute to be even mildly imposing now.”

This earned him a bite from Damian, not hard enough to draw blood, but his beak was sharp and the bite stung. He turned around on Dick’s palms and made like he was going to hop back onto the table.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Cute statements are not allowed. I’m sorry. Don’t go down there, you’ll have a harder time seeing things, and I need those eyes to help me find the guy who did this.”

Damian acquiesced with a chirp and Dick settled him on his shoulder. He was so light it was like Dick hardly had a companion at all. The only indication he wasn’t alone was the pressure from Damian’s claws gripping his shoulder as he sat.

Dick kept getting distracted by Damian shuffling. A wing tickled his ear, then he’d shift and a talon poked through Dick’s shirt. He leaned against Dick, his tiny warm body little more than a puff of fluff against his neck. All his shifting was making Dick want to set him down, but he also didn’t want to lose his brother or risk knocking him off the desk.

On his shoulder, Damian tried to sit down, and instead stumbled, a foot catching in Dick’s shirt. His wings flared, and he smacked Dick in the face with one as he yelped in surprise.

Damian’s stumble sent a shock of worry through Dick, he lifted a hand and helped catch his brother, keeping him from falling all the way off his shoulder. He couldn’t help but think Damian falling still equated injury for the kid.

Damian huffed at him, and hopped off his shoulder and fluttered for a moment, unsure what he was doing. Embarrassed, in the way that he wouldn’t look at Dick, and instead fluttered up before settling in Dick’s hair.

It was strange, feeling a bird snuggle into his hair, but snuggle Damian did. He could feel the kid settle, and finally stop shifting around. He should have guessed standing around like that would get tiring.

He reached up and ran two fingers over Damian’s head before scratching at his neck to hear a satisfied chirp.

“Comfy?” Dick asked.

Damian whistled.

“Good. Try not to fall out okay? My hair is one of my best aspects.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as Damian pulled a clump of hair, irritated with all Dick’s teasing. He chirped at him, an insistent noise that said “Get on with the research, Richard.”

It was frustrating work, trying to find a picture of the man who’d been breaking into museums. Every security system had seemed to fail while he’d been inside, by magic Dick would have said sourly before, and now he figured it was probably true.

Unless he was cloaked in “Don’t look at me” magic all the time, Dick figured they’d find a security camera somewhere that had caught his face. Tonight was his lucky night. A little ways down from the museum a camera caught a man literally appearing out of nowhere.

He found himself doubly lucky as he realized the camera caught a clear image of the man’s face. He looked thirty-something with sandy hair, messy either by design or from his scuffle with Damian. He wore robes. Honest to goodness wizard’s robes. Like he’d stepped out of Harry Potter or something.

Damian hissed at the screen as Dick scoffed at the outfit.

“This guy’s a criminal alright, the fashion police should lock him up for crappy costume design.”

He felt Damian bob in agreement.

Dick was hopeful that the man had a criminal history and facial recognition would find him in a good amount of time. Of course, that did not mean they’d find him immediately. In fact, the time dragged out so long Dick was starting to drift off before anything remotely helpful appeared on the screen.

He was woken by Damian’s squawking. Loud, screechy, and angry. The child’s noises startled Dick into awareness a second before Damian stood from his roost and made to hop off Dick’s head, pointed at the screen.

One of his talons caught in Dick’s curls and he squawked again, this one more surprised than angry. A bird flopped into Dick’s face, wings splayed out and beating against his eyes, and nose. Panicked tugging of his leg pulled Dick’s hair painfully.

Dick cupped the startled and upset bird in his palms and settled him back on his head before holding a palm out for Damian to step onto, “Climb on one step at a time and we’ll see where you’re caught, or if all this chaos has untangled you.”

Damian huffed at him, but did as he asked. One foot settled onto Dick’s palm easily, the other tugged and pulled on Dick’s hair again. He could hear Damian’s wheezing upset breaths.

“It’s alright, let me get you untangled.” Dick said, using his free hand to find the caught limb and gently tugging strands off it.

His foot popped up after a second, and he settled on Dick’s palm. He hopped back off when Dick reached towards the table with him. The moment Damian was away from him, he hurried over to the mouse and pushed the pointer towards the man’s face, chirping at him in a way Dick guessed might be some kind of threat or profanity.

“Language.” he chided idly, and was surprised to see Damian jerk up and turn to blink, shocked, at him.

Dick grinned, “Just because it’s not English doesn’t mean I can’t tell.”

Damian stuck his tongue out at him.

“Brat.” Dick teased back.

The man’s name was Lucas. He’d been charged with a number of things over the years, breaking and entering, impersonation, and fraud. Other than that he was a pretty normal guy. Good grades, no trouble until he’d graduated. The guy had even been a mathlete.

Damian said, “Tt.” which Dick thought probably meant “Lucas is a stupid name for a wizard.”

* * *

At this point, Bruce had pulled the cowl back and buried his face in his hands. He let out a heavy sigh that stopped Dick’s story.

“Something wrong, B?”

“My son was turned into a bird by a mathlete.” Bruce mumbled, face still pressed to his palms, “There are a number of things wrong with this situation.”

“Well.” Dick said, thoughtfully, “Not just a mathlete, a magic user who we calls himself The Magician.” He wiggled his fingers as he said the name, grinning at his father.

Bruce groaned and Dick grinned at him.

* * *

“The Magician is a pretty bad name.” Dick said, resting his chin on a palm, “Like a really really bad name.”

Damian chirped.

They’d found out quite a bit about the man after discovering his name. They also found out that the item he’d taken from the museum had a second piece to it, located in Gotham.

Dick yawned, and rubbed his eyes, “It’s getting late, kiddo.” Well, early, the clock read almost four am. Alfred would not be pleased they’d stayed up so late.

Damian eyed him, and shifted his stance, looking like he was trying to root himself to the table. His body language screaming that he did not want to go yet. That he wanted all of this figured out, plan and stopping Lucas, done now.

“Dames, we can’t stay up all night. Both of us need to sleep so we can be well rested to plan and take on The Great Lucas tomorrow.” Dick said.

His brother did not appreciate his joke. He grumbled at Dick, which was a new noise. This one almost a growl but somewhat musical as all his sounds had been. It would be cute if Damian wasn’t angry with him.

He was, and in addition to the grumble, Damian bit at Dick’s fingers, so hard this time that blood started to bead on the end of Dick’s finger where he’d been bitten.

Damian jerked his head towards the computer, then butted Dick’s hand again.

“No, Damian. We’re going to bed. We can finish tomorrow, I promise.”

His brother shook his head and pushed at Dick with his head again, then reached out with his foot to try to pull Dick’s hand forward, his toes hardly able to hold onto Dick’s finger.

Dick pulled his hand away gently and stood, “One night like this won’t kill you. Besides, I doubt we’d find the guy right now. He’s not going to try anything until at least tomorrow night.”

Damian turned away from him and seemed to square himself up before he stomped (and darn it that was too cute, Dick was making copies of the cave’s videos from tonight) over to the keyboard.

He attempted to peck at it, then actually jumped up on the keys to press them down with his feet. The work was slow and Dick had to resist actually cooing at his brother. He considered letting Damian wear himself out, hopping on keys to press them down, but that wasn’t fair. He really did need his sleep and Dick wasn’t going to leave him down here.

Besides, he had an idea of why Damian was so set on not going upstairs.

“Damian look at me.” Dick said, his voice pausing his brother’s typing.

Damian turned to blink at him.

“Are you worried about Tim finding out?”

If a bird could scowl, Damian did it. His eyes narrowing, posture straightening to ramrod for him. Dick knew he’d got it in one. Tim was home for a few days, taking a break from his team and there for added back up while Bruce was away.

“The solution to that is easy enough.” Dick told him, “I just tell him you are a robin that Damian found on patrol, one that was overly familiar and obviously released from a home.”

Damian tilted his head at this, considering the suggestion. He tittered at Dick, some kind of question.

“What if he asks where you are and why I’m taking care of the bird? I’ll tell him Jon called you over for something. He’ll believe me if I say you didn’t want to tell me why.”

Dick wasn’t quite sure this would work. Damian didn’t know he had little green mask marks on his face, and Tim would pick up on that right away. If he did figure it out? Well Dick would soothe ruffled feathers if it got to that. For now, he wanted to get Damian upstairs and sleeping.

He held his breath as Damian thought about the proposition. Dick would rather not force Damian upstairs with him. It would be easier than usual, but unkind all the same. Besides, Dick didn’t want his hands any more covered in bites than they already were.

At last, Damian nodded and jumped up to fly over to Dick. He was getting better at flying, the more and more he did it. Dick thought Damian might regret it if he didn’t take every chance he could at flying. It wasn’t something he could do as a boy, no matter what they said about flying across buildings on a grapple.

“You want to fly all the way up with me?”

Damian whistled at him and flew past Dick, twittering as if he were laughing. Dick chuckled and hurried to keep up. His brother was a fast flier for such a tiny bird.

When they got upstairs Dick found a bowl big enough that Damian would be comfortable in it, and lined it with a fluffy blanket, puffing it up in the center for optimal comfort. He settled it on the nightstand so he could be close if Damian needed anything.

Damian settled into it, dragging bits of the blanket here and there before he seemed happy with the little bed. Dick leaned over and pressed the lightest of kisses to the top of his brother’s head, the feathers there tickling his lips slightly.

“Sleep well kiddo.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Dick awoke to the noise of feathers fluttering, distressed bird sounds, and a cat mewling. It took him a moment to put each sound together into an event. When he did, he shot up in bed to see Damian flying in circles yelling while Alfred the cat chased him.

It was a surreal vision to say the least, and Dick thought for a single moment that perhaps he was still dreaming. But no, he wasn’t. There was a real Sylvester and Tweety chase happening before him.

Dick stood up and bolted for Damian as the kid decided to dive bomb his cat. Dick caught a handful of fluff and feathers, enclosing Damian in his hands and let out a sigh of relief. Damian almost immediately started squawking again, and pecking at him. Dick ignored it, moving to settle on the bed again.

Alfred hopped up onto the bed and pawed at his now closed fingers. Within his hands, Damian turned his beratement back at the cat, with angry screeches and growls.

Wings flapped against Dick’s hands, and Damian pecked harder at him, trying to get Dick to let go. Dick pressed his lips together and took in a deep breath. It was too early for this. He hadn’t even had a chance to think about coffee yet, let alone have it.

He lifted his hands to his face, opening a tiny hole between his thumbs so he could glare at Damian, “Could you chill?” he asked, “Seriously? You’re riling your cat up. I thought you two were friends?”

Damian bit at the soft skin between thumb and forefinger. Dick hissed, but didn’t drop him or let go.

“That’s not going to work. You are not getting out of this until you’ve calmed down. Just to help with all that, I’m kicking Alfred out.”

He stood back up, the cat following him. With a few motions he managed to shoo Alfred from the room and kick the door closed. As he moved, Damian started to settle down. When he’d stopped attempting to claw his way out of Dick’s hands, Dick let him go.

He fluttered out and away from Dick, settling on his dresser. He looked bedraggled, his feathers a mess, his little chest puffing in and out as he tried to catch his breath. Damian shook himself, like he was attempting to fling water everywhere. It settled a few feathers, but not nearly enough to make him look presentable.

Dick stepped over, ready to help out, but Damian made like he was going to bite Dick again. He withdrew his hand and tried not to smile at his brother.

“If you’d let me, I’d help. I doubt Alfred even realized you were you.”

Damian tutted at him again, and set to preening the muss that was his feathers. This was the second time he’d managed a semblance of Tt and Dick couldn’t help but marvel at the noise. Even trapped as a bird, Damian still managed to be Damian.

“If you’re getting ready for the day, so am I. I’m going to hop in the shower, don’t let Titus try to eat you too.”

Damian chittered at him, as if to say, “Don’t be ridiculous, Richard. Titus would never attempt such a thing.”

Dick waved him off and headed into his bathroom.

After his shower, he found Damian settled on the windowsill, staring out it. Dick stepped over and looked out too. It overlooked part of the garden that was always so carefully tended by Alfred, Bruce, and now Damian.

“Yearning for the great outdoors? Or just worried about your roses?”

Damian chirped, a sad sound that belied worry. He turned to look at Dick. The green around his eyes was still a bit mussed, difficult for him to reach.

“Here, you’ve got a few feathers out of place.” Dick reached out and rubbed them into place with his thumb, doing the same for the top of his head, “Much better.”

Dick sat down on the sill by Damian, “We’ll get you turned back to normal. I promise.”

His brother butted his hand and chirped again, brighter this time.

“Let’s go have breakfast, and after that you and I will work out a game plan. I bet Lucas is going to want the other part of his ‘all powerful’ jewelry set sooner rather than later.”

Damian nodded at him, and together they headed downstairs to the kitchen. Damian flew beside him, comfortable enough in the air now.

On the way down, they passed Damian’s cat. Alfred glanced at them, but seemed less eager to chase Damian this time. Dick wondered if the cat had been hungry earlier. That or Damian had been the instigator, probably by accident. Dick didn’t think his brother would want to irritate his beloved pet for no reason.

Alfred and Tim were in the kitchen when they came down. Tim seemed fine from his night patrolling with Cass, a little tired, but at least he wasn’t bruised or patched up. Since he and Damian had come back late, Dick hadn’t really checked in with anyone the evening before, being all caught up in Damian’s mess.

Damian visibly startled in the air, and decided to land on Dick’s shoulder. Shuffling and shifting with agitation.

“Hey guys.” Dick said, keeping his tone normal, or as normal as one could carrying a bird around.

“Master Dick.” Alfred said, carefully addressing only him.

“Hey.” Tim waved a spoon before dunking it into his oatmeal, he paused before scooping a spoonful to eat, examining them for a moment before shrugging off the oddness.

Dick felt Damian relax on his shoulder.

He was struck then, by the thought that he didn’t know what was safe for Damian to eat. His biology was different as a bird, and Dick was sure there were foods considered not safe for most birds. If their roles were switched, Dick was sure Damian would know exactly what to find for him.

“Al, can you find something for this little guy to eat, maybe some seeds?” Dick asked.

Damian made a spitting sound and shook his head, he did not want birdseed.

Dick pressed his lips together, unsure how to fix the situation. He couldn’t talk to Damian like he had been and still keep the kid’s secret. He knew his brother, and if he was going to refuse something like birdseed, he wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“Well what do you want?” Dick asked, using the same tone of voice he’d address Titus or Batcow with, he knew Damian would hate it, but the kid hadn’t wanted Tim to know he was a bird, so this was the trade off.

He took off from Dick’s shoulder and out the open kitchen window.

“Looks like you lost Damian’s new bird.” Tim said, around a mouthful of oatmeal.

Dick shot him a look, “I did not. It’s well trained, or Damian thought so.” he added, “It probably gets its own breakfast all the time. Early bird and the worm and all that.”

He really hoped Damian didn’t come back with a worm. That would be gross.

Tim frowned, “Can you even train a bird to do something like that?”

“I guess?” Dick said, and moved to the coffee pot, pouring himself a generous amount into a Superman mug. He doctored it with some milk and sugar and settled at the bar by Tim, hands cupped around the warm ceramic.

“How’d your patrol go last night? Dames and I were out late.” he asked. 

“I noticed. Did you catch the art thief?”

Dick winced, “Not yet, but we’re closing in. Tonight we’ll have him. Your night?”

“Kinda slow. A couple of muggings, one guy with really bad lock picking skills, and exactly one drug bust.” He took a swig of his juice, “Cass and I called it early and watched some tv. She left early this morning for dance practice.”

“Slow can be good, especially with B out.”

Tim started to respond then looked over Dick’s shoulder, “It’s back.” he said, surprised.

Damian landed on the bar by Dick’s mug, half a cricket hanging out of his beak. He bit down, making a crunching sound, then tilted his head back to swallow the two halves.

Dick couldn’t help but scrunch his nose, “Gross.”

“It’s not surprising, what’d you think it was going to find out there?”

“He.” Dick corrected automatically, “And I dunno, berries?”

Tim raised an eyebrow at him, unconvinced, “It’s like you’ve never interacted with a bird before, which is a shame since you picked it to be the eternal moniker for Batman’s sidekick.”

Dick shoved him lightly, “Shut it. I know how to interact with birds. Damian said this one had been a pet, I figured it had better tastes.” he eyed his youngest brother who chirped at him, nonplussed.

Alfred stepped over, depositing oatmeal to match Tim’s in front of Dick, and a plate of berries and nuts in front of Damian along with a little dish of water. Damian whistled two notes that sounded an awful lot like thank you. Dick was wondering if his brother even wanted to hide his identity or not.

“He does seem pretty used to people. Is Damian out looking for the family he got away from?” Tim asked pointing his spoon at Damian.

Dick stirred his oatmeal, “Nah, he’s off with Jon, leaving me to babysit. Said the bird seemed less lost and more like he’d been let out.”

Tim hummed, but there was a tone of suspicion in the acknowledgement.

“I bet if he were here he’d talk about just how many families should never ever have birds because they don’t know how to take care of them, and that letting them out into the wild both harms the bird and the ecosystem.” Dick rambled before sipping his coffee, “At least that’s what he kept saying on the drive back.”

Damian chirped an acknowledging yes.

Dick was going to kill him. Honestly, did he want Tim cooing over him in bird form? Dick had figured that’d be Damian’s last wish.

Tim leaned over Dick to get a better look at Damian who was distracted choosing a grape. He leaned back after a moment and eyed Dick.

“That robin has some pretty curious markings. I’ve never seen a bird with green around their eyes like that.” he emphasized bird as if to say he’d seen plenty of other people with green around their eyes.

Stupid detective skills.

Dick shrugged, “Genetic defect?”

It was an okay lie. One that might have worked if Damian himself were there claiming things about the bird. He always said things with such confidence, and typically spouted the facts to back up his claims. Especially when it came to animals. Dick just wasn’t as good. Ask him to break down a gymnast’s routine and he wouldn’t stop for hours. They all had their passions.

“Hmm, yeah.” Tim said, “Or that bird is Damian, who somehow managed to get himself turned into an actual robin and one up us all.”

No quick lies came to mind to defend Damian from this latest attack. Instead Dick shoveled oatmeal into his mouth in an attempt to pretend he couldn’t respond.

“Or did he just piss off a magician on the way home?”

Dick couldn’t help the scoff that the comment elicited and almost choked for it as a bit of oatmeal caught in his throat. He coughed it clear and chugged coffee to relieve the tickle from it. Tim had hit close to home with that guess.

Damian took a grape off the plate and flung it forward at Tim.

Tim dodged easily and grinned at them both. “I hope someone is documenting this because it’s golden. The baby bird is actually a baby bird. I’ve got to call Jason and Steph. The whole world needs to know about this.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it up to Damian, “Pose for me, Damian. If you don’t I’ll just pull a picture from the cave security cameras.”

Damian hissed at him. Dick was worried for a moment that he’d dive bomb Tim, but Damian must have decided if he was going to be posted everywhere he might as well do it looking prim. He puffed up and tried to look as imperious as possible in tiny bird form.

“Incredible.” Tim said, fingers already flying on his phone after taking the photo, “I never thought it’d happen.”

* * *

“Tim didn’t send me one of those photos.” Bruce said, actually checking his phone.

“You’re in space.” Dick pointed out, “If he did, I doubt you’ve gotten it yet.”

“You haven’t told me whether or not I’m coming home to a bird as my youngest son yet.” Bruce said, “Tell me he’s not stuck like that.”

“I’m getting to it, buckle in for the rest of this story because it’s a doozy.” Dick said, leaning back in his chair.

* * *

  
There were definite drawbacks to Damian being a bird. It made him grumpy, his communication skills were nonexistent beyond chirps, and he bit Dick _all the time_. One would think that Damian might be more snugly and loving as a bird, but one would be wrong.

Damian bit to get Dick’s attention. To show his displeasure. To express his irritation. To tell Dick he was being an idiot. Sometimes Dick thought he did it because he was bored.

His arms were dotted with red marks, his hands bleeding and bandaged in a few places. And still they hadn’t come to an agreement about the plan for that night.

Currently Dick was seated on the couch in the living room, laptop open on part of the table, Damian chittering at him from his place on the table. Dick was sure his brother was trying to tell him the same thing he’d say in any situation like this.

“I refuse to be left behind. No matter what form I am in, I am a capable fighter and you would benefit from having me by my side.”

He was probably also telling Dick, “I will get my revenge on the fool who did this to me.” Which was understandable but still not an argument that would make Dick budge.

“Listen.” Dick told him, leaning down so they were eye to eye, his hands resting on the table by Damian, “You have tiny, frail, hollow, bird bones. If you go out with me tonight I can almost promise you’re going to break something or worse."

He didn’t even want to think about the or worse part. Didn’t want to imagine his brother, smaller than usual, lying broken on the ground. Didn’t want to picture what a malicious person could do to a bird.

Damian pecked at his hand, drawing blood and making Dick yelp.

He yanked his hand back, shaking it, as he tried very hard to squelch the anger rising in him, “Damian. Kiddo. Sweetest. Light of my _life_.” he took a deep breath and leveled as serious a look as possible at Damian, “If you do that again I’m going to _lose it_.”

Damian huffed at him and glared, but did not attempt to bite him again.

Dick sighed, and sat up straight again. This was not working.

“Please?” he decided, “Just stay home okay? I’ll figure out how to turn you back to normal and when I get home we’ll fix things. I want you safe.”

His brother made insistent noises, as if he were telling Dick the same thing, that he just wanted him safe.

“How about this? If you stay here, I’ll take you out to the arcade for an all day Cheese Viking trip when you’re back to normal. We can get ice cream and go get those sweet potato fries you like so much. You and me, all day together?”

Damian considered this offer. He tilted his head one way, then another, and Dick really thought he was going to accept the deal. Then Damian shook his head and straightened imperiously.

Dick fell back into the couch and sighed, “You’re not budging on this are you?”

His brother puffed up, pleased.

“Okay, but there are rules.” Dick leaned forward again, “And I will only let you come if you agree to follow those rules. If you don’t, or break one I will lock you in that chest I have in my room or in the car. You should be fine in there for a couple of hours.”

Damian squawked an affronted sound, but nodded in agreement.

“Good. The first rule is that you stick with me the whole time. No flying ahead or staying behind to investigate something. You will either fly right by my side or sit on my shoulder or hair, or wherever it takes to keep you safe. Understand?”

His brother gave him a look that said “Obviously”.

Dick continued, “Two, you do not fling yourself into any kind of danger. I don’t care what’s happening, you keep yourself safe.”

Damian chirped his “Tt” but nodded again.

“Anything I tell you to do, you do without arguing. If I say run, you run. Got it?”

This chirp sounded an awful lot like Damian was trying to call Dick a “Dictator” but Dick let it slide as an agreement.

“Alright then.” Dick nodded, “Tonight we catch the bad guy and get you back to normal.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Lucas watched from his stakeout point as the guards locked the museum up for the night. He could hear the beeping of the security system arming itself for the night. The beep beep beep of it was loud enough to echo out to where he was crouched.

He gave them a few minutes to leave and not return for anything forgotten. It was lucky that this museum trusted it’s security system and cameras to do the job of physical people. He hated having to knock out guards.

Unlocking the door and disabling the system was easier than ever with the tear cupped in his palm. It amplified his powers to the degree that simple spells like this hardly took concentration, let alone the words required for it. He was inside almost before he realized it, power humming through his body.

All he wanted was the Tear’s counterpart. He needed to get it. He could feel the magic, so easily used, already seeking out his mind again. Could feel the teas of it at the back of his mind, whispering that he didn’t need some silly second part.

Finding the second piece would be easy enough with another tracking spell. Lucas willed it into being, feeling the tear warm against his hand. A golden trail flickered in his vision, leading forward.

He hurried forward, rubbing the back of his head as if that could rub away the sensation of the magic eating away at him.

Lucas all but ran from exhibit to exhibit, taking the stairs two at a time as he moved up one, then two floors. There, glittering in a room half the size of the others he’d passed through, was this museum’s jewelry exhibit.

The glittering gold of his vision pointed him towards a long collection of silver pieces, flickering over the whole cabinet before fading. Lucas approached it, but was stopped as a figure dropped down in front of it.

He yelped and scrambled backwards before he realized who it was standing before him. He straightened and cleared his throat, attempting to regain some sense of being imposing.

Nightwing cocked a grin at him, escarma’s held lazily in each hand, “Hello, Lucas.”

Lucas scowled at him, and noticed something odd about Nightwing’s hair. It was fluttering. He squinted at it and an angry squawk filled the room. The man had brought Robin.

He felt the Tear warm in his palm, empowering him, “Not Lucas.” he said, “The Magician.” He filled the word with such confidence, with all the power building in his chest.

Nightwing began to laugh, so hard the man doubled over, arms wrapped around his waist, “I’m sorry, but do you live under a rock?” he choked out.

Indignation rose in Lucas, he straightened, grip tightening on the pendant in his palm, “You have the likes of Joker and Riddler in your city, I don’t see the problem.”

The man was _still_ laughing, “Do you really think you’re the only ‘magician’ in the world? Zatanna, Klarion? Either of those ringing any bells? Come up with something a little more creative or actually stand up to the name.”

“I cursed your partner.” Lucas said, squaring his shoulders, “I would say that stands up to the name.”

Nightwing’s mirth faded at that, “Yeah, you did. I’d like you to change him back.”

“Well, I’d like that pretty silver pendant you’re protecting. I’m afraid only one of us will get what we want.” With that, Lucas flung his hand out towards the man, firing a bolt of magic.

Nightwing dodged with ease, but that didn’t matter. The magic coursing through Lucas made him stronger, and faster than he’d been before. He moved with Nightwing, landing a solid punch to his face that sent the man reeling.

Lucas stalked forward to continue his onslaught and kicked Nightwing in the ribs, crashing him into a display case. He dragged him forward and slammed his back with his elbow, dropping the man in the most badass of--

* * *

“No. No way. I’m calling it. This is a load of bull.” The redheaded woman said, kicking her chair back, “No one, and I mean no one, gets a punch in at Nightwing then gets the upper hand. I don’t care what magic you had. The man’s too fast, or he flips outta your way.”

“I’m with the lady.” The bartender said, raising an eyebrow at Lucas, “Embellishment is good and all, but at least tell a plausible lie.”

“Besides,” the woman added, “If you had him that fast I doubt you’d be in the shape you are now.”

Lucas shrugged, “Alright... so maybe I didn’t get a good punch in right then, but I did get a few hits in. Just enough to send the man reeling into a case, I swear it. If I hadn’t things might have turned out a little better for me.”

* * *

Lucas grinned as a wave of magic sent Nightwing reeling back into a case of jewelry. The pendant in his hand was almost burning at this point. He looped it around his neck so both hands could be free. His palm had a deep red indent in it, but this time Lucas wasn’t really worried about that.

The next spell he got off made the pendant glitter, he caught sight of it now that it was out of the safety of his palm. The bird, Robin, noticed it too. Like a crow he found the shiniest thing in the room and aimed for it.

Not that Lucas had noticed the bird’s approach, he was too focused on deciding what spell to use next. Maybe he’d turn Nightwing into a creature matching Robin. Or a cat.

All that focus was derailed as the bird dove for him. Pecking at his face, and biting his hands when he lifted them as a shield.

He swatted at Robin, but the brat ducked and pulled around to tear at Lucas’s hair. He reached blindly, grabbing tight when he caught a small warm body, feathers dangling between his fingers. He yanked Robin forward, tearing hair in the process, and held him triumphantly before him.

Robin wiggled in his grip, attempting to fight his way out. He screeched at him, his voice high and shrill and far more annoying than it had been while he’d been a boy.

Nightwing was stalking towards him, a look of anger on his face that Lucas had not been expecting. It was a look he’d supposed Batman to give. A look fiercer than Robin’s had been when he’d caught Lucas with his hand in the jewel case the night before.

Lucas had the sudden, wild urge to stop everything. To hit pause so he could think.

“Stop!” he demanded, squeezing Robin until the screeches cut off in a pained gasp of air.

Nightwing froze in his tracks.

The child. He was Lucas’s get away card. As often as he’d heard stories about the two of them together Lucas knew Nightwing cared for the kid. This now tiny bird in Lucas’s hand. He could slow the man down with the kid.

He was angry, he realized. Furious. This man and the brat had ruined his plans too many times already. Nothing and no one in Gotham had been as he’d expected it. Not even the so called heroes. They’d ruined everything. If they hadn’t been in his way. Hadn’t come here tonight, Lucas would be fine.

Robin managed to wiggle a wing free and Lucas grabbed it without thinking.

If not for these two, he wouldn’t have a burning fire against his chest. His mind wouldn’t be raging with an extra voice. A voice that screamed at him to burn it all. The child, man, building, and city. Burn everything to the ground and rise up in the power he already had.

They were in the way. Both of them were in the way of everything. Of his goals and ambitions. Of the. The other pendant. Lucas needed it. Needed to reign in the screaming voice in his head.

Nightwing was still frozen in front of him, waiting for Lucas to do something. He held Robin in front of him, like a shield and stepped to the side, once then twice, inching closer to the display case. Nightwing stepped with him, neither approaching nor retreating. He slipped his escarma sticks onto his back and held his hands up, palms forward. His eyes locked on the bird squirming furiously in Lucas’s hands.

One more step. The voice in his head was yelling, pushing at him just to squeeze and squeeze the life out of the bird. To fling magic at Nightwing and watch him writhe.

He didn’t need that. Didn’t need to do either thing.

Nightwing took a step forward and Lucas snapped the wing in his fingers with a growl. Robin screeched, and Nightwing froze.

He didn’t have time to try anything else. He had to move. He needed the pendant. The other piece that would be his salvation and sanity.

The case was right there now, and Lucas pointed a hand at it and shattered the who top with a spell. Then he reached in and his fingers brushed the other pendant before he felt himself torn away from the case.

Pain lanced his free arm as it was yanked up behind his back. Nightwing’s voice was a furious snarl in his ear.

“Let. Him. Go.”

Lucas did the only thing he could think of, he threw Robin away from both of them. Nightwing turned him, and slammed a fist into his face, sending his vision spotty and fading to black.   
  


* * *

 

Dick dropped the stunned magician to hurry after his brother, who hit the ground with smack and didn’t move.

He dropped to his knees to scoop Damian into his hands. He was a shuddering mess, his feathers worse than they’d been that morning when he’d been chased around the room by his cat. His broken wing was twisted at a painful angle. Dick moved it as gently as he could, as if it would snap off with the wrong amount of pressure, turning it and helping Damian fold it flat against his back. 

He made keening sounds, and Dick ran a finger gently over his head, voice soft, “It’s alright. You’re going to be just fine, Kiddo. I promise.”

Dick’s voice seemed to bring Damian back to himself, and even as a bird with a broken wing, he still seemed to exude the need to be brave. He sucked in rabbit fast breaths, but went silent, staggering to his feet.

Dick stood, settling Damian carefully in his hair again. He felt his brother latch on with his feet, gripping strands so tightly he was pulling a few painfully.

He stalked towards Lucas, who’d pulled himself to his feet and was stumbling towards the display case. Dick didn’t let him get close enough this time to touch it, let alone reach in. He charged the man, crashing into him with his shoulder, sending both on a trajectory decidedly away from the case.

“You’ve already ticked me off, you do not want to continue this.” Dick told him.

Lucas turned, eyes wild, “I’ve had enough of you. Of you and that brat.” he spat the word, “You’ve ruined everything with your meddling and distraction.” The man’s hands flickered and glowed with magic, “You need to leave me alone!”

He flung spells at Dick, most were easy to dodge as they flew wildly with little direction or care. Fire came so close Dick could smell his hair singe. He reached a hand up to check on Damian who tapped him lightly to say he was safe.

It was almost impossible to get close to Lucas again. Dick pulled his escarmas off his back and clicked on the electricity, if he could stun the guy then he could restrain him and get that stupid magic pendant off him.

He skipped and dodged, waiting for a moment there was a good opening between bursts of magic being flung at him. Damian chittered at him, tugging at his hair.

“It’s alright.” Dick murmured to him, “We’ll get him.”

Damian tugged his hair again, more insistent. Dick didn’t have time to listen as he ducked out of the way of another bolt of magic, strangely similar to the last one. If the bolts could be distinguished beyond those that were on fire.

The third time the magic swooped at him, blocking his vision from Lucas, Dick caught on, “It’s homing in on me.”

Damian didn’t seem appeased by this revelation, he was still tugging at Dick’s hair and making insistent chirping sounds. Dick took a chance and flung one of his escarma’s forward, into the bolt of magic.

The two crashed together and the bolt dissipated, dropping the escarma to the ground.

Dick had just enough time to grin at his good work when Damian screeched at him, loud and insistent. His attention snapped back to Lucas who flung a huge, glittering bolt at him, more than double the size of anything else he’d thrown.

It was fast. Too fast for Dick to dodge, but he could keep Damian safe. He reached up to grab his brother, only to have feathers pull through his fingers as Damian leapt from his head and dove headlong into the bolt, the two of them coming together in a single moment of frozen time.

There was a burst of light that blinded him for a moment. Dick blinked spots away and found Damian, human, normal, _Damian_ curled in on himself on the ground between them. Smoke drifted lazily from his form and he didn’t look like he was moving.

Rage overtook Dick.

Lucas realizing his mistake, turned to book it, but Dick grabbed him, and pummeled him with his fists blindly. They both went down together, Dick kneeling on Lucas’s chest as he slammed his fist into the man’s face.

Lucas’s eyes rolled back for a moment head falling backward to expose the chain around his neck. Dick tore the pendant off him, flinging it to the side to skitter on the ground. He turned his attention to the pale man in his grip with a snarl.

Lucas blinked at him, dazed, before realization came back to him. He threw both his hands in front of his bloodied face.

“I’m sorry!” Lucas stammered, “He wasn’t supposed to do that! I didn’t think he’d sacrifice himself for anyone, let alone at that moment.”

“Is that why he changed back? Were you going to kill me? Did you kill him?!” Dick roared.

“Yes. I mean no. I mean, yes that’s why he changed, true love and all that stuff. I don’t...I didn’t... My intention was never to kill. I couldn’t, the magic was too much.” he peered around his hands to look at Dick.

“I don’t care what your intention was.” Dick growled.

Beside them, Damian moaned.

Dick felt his heart stutter back to life, the fury inside of him cooling for a moment against relief and worry.

“Thank the stars.” Lucas sighed.

Dick turned his glare back on the man, “Don’t relax now you Cheeto-fingered _snot_. This is still your fault.” he said and dragged him up from the ground in a heap, stepping lightly around him to drag one arm, then the other behind his back.

He hooked cuffs around one wrist, and paused holding Lucas’s other arm, “One more thing.” Dick said, and yanked the arm viciously until it snapped, “Don’t you ever touch my brother again.” he ground out, securing the other wrist in the cuffs.

Dick left Lucas whimpering to himself to kneel by Damian, his hands gentle now as he turned his brother on his back. There was a nasty burn on his chest, his uniform torn away by whatever had burned the blistering red mark into his skin. He was wheezing, eyes fluttering and unfocused.

“Robin.” Dick said, voice soft, “Hey, look at me.”

Green focused for a second on him, holding his gaze as Damian frowned, “Ri--Nightwing?”

He tried to sit up, and yelped, then turned away from Dick’s chest to retch. Dick held him as Damian threw up, brushing his hair out of his face. Damian seemed to pass back out after he was done. Dick laid Damian back down away from the puddle and stood, stalking back to Lucas.

He grabbed the man, fists in his shirt as he dragged him up, “What was that spell?” he demanded, “What the hell did you do to him?”

“I--I don’t--” Lucas stammered.

Dick shook him, “Answer me!”

“It was a stunning spell! It was meant for a grown human! Not a little bird or even a boy! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I have no idea what it did to him!”

Dick threw him back to the ground and resisted the urge to kick him.

“Mmm fine.” Damian mumbled, “Dizzy.”

He had somehow managed to sit up, broken arm cradled against his chest. He opened his mouth to say something else, and his eyes rolled back a moment before he pitched over.

Dick dove for him, catching him before his head hit the ground. He settled Damian’s head against his chest, and brushed at his face with his thumb, wiping flecks of vomit away. Damian stirred, blinked at him, then rolled into Dick’s chest, apparently tired of trying to be tough. One hand attempted to grab at Dick’s uniform.

Rustling from close by made Dick turn his head, somehow Lucas had gotten the cuffs off and was tiptoeing away, cartoon villain style. He froze when he noticed Dick looking.

Dick was torn between wanting to knock the guy unconscious and get Damian home. In his arms, Damian moaned again, his whole body shuddering. Lucas didn’t seem eager to snatch up the pendant still laying on the ground, which settled things for Dick.

“If you _ever_ show your face in Gotham again, I will make you will regret it. Understand?”

Lucas nodded so fast Dick was afraid the man was going to shake his eyes out. He bolted from the room as Dick hoisted Damian closer and stood, cradling him close.

“We’re going home.”

* * *

 

“Of freaking course he was going to break your arm!” the man beside Lucas said, “Everyone knows you don’t hurt Robin!”

“Ya’ don’t even touch the kid without setting Nightwing off.” The woman added.

“Novice move.” someone else said,

There was a chorus of “Yeahs” that followed it.

The bartender shook his head sadly at Lucas, “To tell you the truth, I’d say you got off easy. I’ve heard far worse tales about what Nightwing has done to people who went after his kid.”

“None of them turned him into a bird though.” his male companion slapped his back, “That’s a first!”

“Ballsy that’s what it was.” someone added.

“Here here for our magician friend, stickin' it to the birds with a bird!”

“You probably could have gotten away with it if you’d left things at that.” The bartender said, then frowned, “How did you get away from Nightwing after all?”

Lucas took the last sip of his drink as a shot, and started coughing again, unable to breathe as the liquid almost physically attacked him.

“He warned,” Lucas coughed, hitting his chest, “me he’d be coming after me, so...” he wheezed, “So, I’d rather not stay much longer. He’ll be on my trail again soon.” he coughed again, for good measure.

He paid for his drink and stood, pushing past the crowd to leave the bar, the little bell chiming after him.

* * *

 

Bruce leaned back in his chair, blinking at Dick.

“Let me get this straight.” he said, voice carefully measured, “In the three days I’ve been gone, Damian was turned into a bird by an incompetent wizard with a magic stone? Who broke his arm in an attempt to get away from you? And now he’s laid up for a while because of _true love_?”

From behind Dick, Damian shouted, “Richard is far too dramatic, Father. I was fine.”

Dick turned in his seat to shoot a look at his brother, sat up on the medical cot with blankets pooled around him, his casted arm pressed close to him in a sling, “You threw up like three seconds after you woke up, Damian.”

“It was that man’s fault.” Damian shot back, “He could not even cast a spell to change me back without vertigo.”

“Right, and what about that spell that almost killed you?”

Damian waved it off like it had been a sparring session.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “And the transformation spell, we’re sure it’s fully reversed? Was it really fixed with true love?”

“Tt, of course not!” Damian snapped, “His spell was faulty that is all. It shorted out when a worse one hit me.”

“Oh it was a worse one now was it?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.

Damian spluttered and threw a pillow at Dick’s face. Dick caught it, and stood to stalk towards his brother, “Two can play that game, Dames.”

“Dick.” Bruce called him back.

Dick froze, pillow primed to bop Damian with, he turned on his heel, “Yeah?”

“What happened to Lucas?”

“Ha, I’ve got no idea. The guy was pissing his pants as he ran off.” Dick gave him a toothy grin, “I gave him such a scare he’ll be looking over his shoulder for me if he so much as jaywalks.”

“You let him get away?” Damian’s voice was indignant, “He turned me into a bird, Richard!”

Dick turned back to Damian, “Without his jewelry he’s more helpless than you were.”

“Helpless?” Damian squawked, sounding a tad bit like he had as a robin, “Come over here and see how helpless I am.”

“Says the boy in the bed.”

Damian swung his legs over the side of the bed, hands gripping the rails.

“Hey no. No no no, you’re not supposed to be up for a few days yet, kiddo.” Dick said, hurrying over to him.

As they bickered, they missed Bruce shaking his head, a small smile on his face, before he let the communication go dark, leaving them to sort things out between themselves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! That is the end of this wacky tale. Thanks so much for reading :D


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